


Monster Hunter: Access GranTed

by blu3boi



Category: Dungeons and Daddies, Dungeons and Daddies (Podcast)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Blood, Body Horror, Fantasy Violence, Fighting, Gore, MONSTER HUNTER AU BBY!!!, One Sided Love, Pining, Probably ooc, grant is a fucking epic monster hunter from all the video games, grant is too gay for his own good, they/them sparrow!!!, what if the dads just never came for the sons?, what if they just fucking died during the first encounter???
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:29:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26888164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blu3boi/pseuds/blu3boi
Summary: It’s been four years since I arrived in the Forgotten Realms. Dad never came for me. I learned to survive this mess up world with the help of two twins, the Hotties. I joined in with all their crazy schemes to make money and we got along well. Monster hunting wasn’t what I saw myself doing but here I am, axe chopping off the head of a goblin. Life in the Forgotten Realms is weird, but it’s about to get a lot worse.
Relationships: Grant Wilson & Yeet Bigly, Killa Demall & Grant Wilson, Yeet Bigly & Killa Demall, all the sons are tight
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	1. Eye on the Prize

**Author's Note:**

> Fun things y’all should know:  
> Grant - 17 years old, level 10 barbarian, human  
> Yeet - 17 years old, level 10 fighter, cyborg  
> Killa - 17 years old, level 10 rogue, banshee  
> Terry Jr - ??? years old, level ??? ???, ???  
> Nick - ??? years old, level ??? ???, ???  
> Lark - ??? years old, level ??? ???, ???  
> Sparrow - ??? years old, level ??? ???, ???

A large club goes flying towards Grant, thankfully he’s tackled out of the way by Killa. That mistake is on him, Killa had been hiding in the bushes, shooting at the cyclops with her crossbow. They should be fine, that was the first hiccup of this fight. Yeet had been doing a great job of distracting the monster while Grant heavied his axe into it. Killing it was the goal this time, the bounty was put on this cyclops by a witch, she needs the eye for a spell.

“Hey fuckface! Over here, come get be you dumbass.” Yeet zooms by the two, calling out to the cyclops, giving Killa and Grant the time to collect themselves. The monster begins to stomp towards Yeet as Grant helps Killa up. His mind is racing with what to do. Obviously just slashing at it and retreating while Killa shot arrows wasn’t doing the trick. An idea pops into his head, he remembers a video game similar to this, Shadow of the Colossus. Shoving his axe into its holster, Grant brandishes two daggers and waits for the perfect opportunity. Killa raises here crossbow but Grant lowers it with his hand.

“I got an idea, don't shoot. Trust me.” They have been a team long enough that Killa knows that Grant’s plans are normally pretty good. She nods and watches as Grant goes to hype himself up. It’s back to them as it follows Yeet, Grant takes a running start and jumps at the cyclops, driving the daggers into its back. Loud roars echo through the forest as Grant pulls a dagger out of the thick flesh. Raising the dagger up as high he can reach, Grant plunges it back into the beast's back. Killa watches in amazement as Grant begins to scale the cyclop’s back, boots digging into its skin. The monster begins to wildily grab at its back, trying desperately to pull this little beast off it, crying out in pain as it does. Still standing in front of it, Yeet pulls out a dagger and slashes at its fat belly, yelling obscenities as he tries to get it to follow him. Anger and pain filling its body, the cyclops picks up its club and swings at Yeet. He wasn’t fast enough. The tree sized club hits Yeet square in the back and sends him flying through the air, his impact being braced by a tree. Sliding down the tree, Yeet slumps over, unmoving.

“YEET!” Killa drops her crossbows and runs to Yeet’s side, fumbling at the potion at her side. Grant knew he needed to hurry up. Climbing faster and faster, his arms ache from carrying his own weight for so long. Reaching the giant shoulders, Grant let’s go of his daggers, the only thing keeping him stable as the cyclops tries to grab him. Pulling his axe out its holster, Grant reels back and brings the blade down on skull of the cyclops. Pushing it deeper and deeper, eventually hearing a disgusting crunch as he breaks through the skull and hits brain, Grant feels the cyclops begin to wobble but it keeps fighting him. Pressing his boot to the back of its skull, Grant yanks the axe out of the monster, flinging blood and brain matter over his face. Now that he had made and opening it didn’t take long for him to kill the cyclops, bringing the head of the axe down into the creatures skull over and over again. Spilting its head open further, scrambling its brains as it begins to topple and finally fall over, dead. Standing on its neck, Grant pants, wiping sweat and gore from his face, staring at the mess he made of this monster. Broken from his trance by the sound of Killa yelling for him, Grant runs over to the twins.

“Grant, Grant what the fuck are we gonna do? He’s dead, he’s fucking-“

“Killa no he’s not! He’s breathing, it’s gonna be okay.” Grant crouches in the other side of Yeet. The rise and fall of his chest was good, the way his arm is bent wasn’t good, the pained incoherent muttering was good, his skateboard broken in half was- fuck. His skateboard was broken in half. Grant gestures to that, giving Killa a fearful look. “That can be fixed right? Like magic can fix that right.”

“I- yeah but only a spefic kind of magic. We- we’re gonna have to go back to the artifiser who made it. Only she can fix it.” Killa brings a hand up to Yeet’s face, tilting his head back, she brings a vibrant yellow potion to his mouth. A gasp and gurgle comes from Yeet as he chokes down the potion, the smaller wounds on him closing up and leaving scars instantly. The broken bone in his arm tries to reset itself, but this potion wasn’t powerful enough for that. They’d have to find a cleric in the next town they go to. Yeet begins to come to, looking at the other two with dazed, pained eyes.

“D-did we- we killed it right?” Are the first words that leave his mouth.

“Yeah dude, we killed it so fucking good.” Grant looks over Yeet, who looks small and weak. This was the most injured Grant has seen Yeet in the four years they’ve known each other. Yeet hisses in pain as he sits up and looks over himself.

“Fuck yeah we did. So what’s the damange?” Yeet freezes as his eyes meet his legs. All of him freezes, his body, eyes, his breathing stops, fuck, even his heart forgets to beat for a moment. “Fuck.”

“Hey, hey, hey, Yeet. It’s gonna be okay. Don’t look at that look at me.” Killa cups Yeet’s face in her hands, turning his head to look at her.

“M-my skateboard-“

“I know… I know. Listen, we’re gonna fix this and get you back to normal and it’s all gonna be-“

“Killa you know we don’t have the fucking money to fix this.” Yeet shakes away from his sister’s grasp, putting his hands on his head. “What the fuck am I gonna do? I can’t fucking move now, fuck.”

“Can’t you just like… pop the skateboard part off and walk with your feet?” Grant immediately regrets asking the question as both the siblings glare at him.

“No Grant, I can’t just do that. I literally can’t walk, haven’t been able to sense I was born.” Yeet is bitter, rightfully so. Killa grabs Yeet’s hand and gives it a squeeze.

“After we bring the eye to that witch, we’ll have the money to fix this. I promise Yeet, this is gonna be okay.” She tries to reassure him as best has she could, but Yeet just shakes his head.

“Then we’ll have no money for food or mom until we kill the next thing. I’m not letting you waste all our money on me Killa.” Yeet sighs and leans his head against the tree. “Let’s- we can talk about this later, I just wanna get out of this fucking forrest.” Killa nods, and gets up.

“I’ll go get the eye. Grant, you go get the horses.” Grant listens immediately, giving a soft “sorry” to Yeet as he walks off towards the place where they had hid the horses.

  
  


If someone would’ve asked 13 year old Grant where he saw himself in four years, he probably would’ve answered in school. He would be a senior, hopefully owns a nice car, looking at colleges, a soccer scholarship under his belt. High hopes and all the stuff adults expect you to say about your future. Little Grant never would’ve guessed he’d be killing monsters for a living with a cute cyborg and badass banshee. Yet, this was the life of Grant Wilson now. After him and other boys were kidnapped and sold off to slavery, they never saw each other again. Never saw their dads again. Well, Grant wasn’t sure if the other kids found their dads. All he knows is that his dad never came for him. No one came for him. He would say that he got lonely but then he met the Hotties and his life was changed forever. The way they all clicked was so organic, like he had always been there. Their dynamic and teamwork has led to them kicking ass in everything they do from FourKnights to Supper Bowl to being monster hunters. The monster hunting thing was new but they all took to it amazingly. It pays well and there are always monsters to kill, it was like they hit the jackpot. At first Grant hadn’t liked the killing, he never killed anyone in FourKnights and did his best to not hurt people too badly at the Supper Bowl. Now he can’t really avoid killing things, that was how he survived and made money. It’s not like he’s killing people, it’s just monsters… at least that’s what Grant tells himself. Grant finds their horses, grazing peacefully in the spot they had hidden them. Grant was never the biggest animal person but it’s hard to not interact with animals in this world. Especially because they were the number one mode of transportation. Grabbing the reins of Yeet’s horse, he begins to lead it back to the others, Killa’s horse following obediently. When Grant makes it back he finds Killa tying up a bloody, eyeball shaped sack while Yeet gulps down water from his water skin.

“Are we ready to go guys?” Grant asks the two. Killa ties the rope connected to the bag around her waist as she goes to hop on her horse. Killa always rode bareback, saying that she made her feel more connected to the horse. And that it makes her look cooler. 

“I’m ready, you’re gonna have to get Yeet up there though.” Right, Yeet. Grant leads the horse over to Yeet, who looks annoyed and tired, screwing the cap back onto his waterskin. Grant bends down and gets ready to pick up Yeet.

“Hey, am I cool to pick you and, how are you doing?” Grant whispers quietly to Yeet. Letting out a soft sigh, running his fingers through his hair, making Grant’s heart flutter, Yeet looks up to Grant and gives him a soft smile. 

“Yeah, you can pick me up dude. Don’t want to be left here in the forest.” He jokes. “I- I’ll talk to you once we’re outta here. Promise dude.” Grant nods slowly as he carefully tucks an arm under the bend of Yeet’s knees and under his arms, being extremely careful about Yeet’s broken arm. Grant immediately understands why Yeet can’t walk as he stands up with the other in his arms. Yeet’s legs were practically dead weight, dangling lazily. Grant thinks for a moment of how he’s gonna get Yeet up there as he tries to pretend like carrying the taller boy was hard. Eventually he shifts Yeet so he’s over his shoulder, and hoists him onto the saddle. Picking up his left leg, Yeet moves it to the other side on the horse and scoots back to make room for Grant. Getting up on the horse, Grant is surprised by feeling Yeet’s arms wrap around 

his waist and his weight leaning on his back. Taking the reins, Grant begins to follow Killa back to the witch's hut, very grateful Yeet can’t see how much he’s blushing.

“How much is she paying us again?” Grant asks as he catches up to Killa.

“Hundred gold. I’m gonna make her give us 50 more cause Yeet got so fucked up.” She mutters the last part angrily.

“Killa, you don’t have to. It’s not her fault.” Yeet mumbles quietly, still holding on Grant.

“I’m down for getting more gold from this witch. Or just like killing her too.” Grant adds, they were technically working for her right now. That doesn’t mean they won’t be hunting her down later if she gets a bounty on her head.

“Ooh, I like how you think Grant!” Killa hums.

“Noo, no killing the witch. Let’s just get our money and get to a town. I need a cleric and drink.” Yeet groaned from in between Grant’s shoulder blades. Killa huffs but silently listens to Yeet as she begins to pick up the pace.

“Killa, how about you drop off the eye and I’ll take Yeet to town? We don’t all need to go to her. We can meet you back at the house.” Grant suggests, Killa contemplates for a moment before nodding her head in agreement. Before Grant has the time to change his mind, Killa digs her heels into the ribs of her horse and takes off towards the witch’s hut. “She’s gonna kill that witch isn’t she?”

“Yep.”

“Should we stop her?”

  
  


“Nope.”

Grant agrees with Yeet, turning the horse towards the direction of town. It doesn’t take long to get there, given how fast they were riding. The horses hooves clack on the stone street as townsfolk stare at the two. They probably looked horrific, covered in viscera and injuries. Ignoring the prying eyes, Grant asks a local if there’s a cleric in town. The old farmer points toward the direction of a chapel, Grant gives him a polite thanks as they continue down the street. Sliding off the horse, Grant catches Yeet as he follows suit. Carrying Yeet bridal style into the chapel, pushing open the door with his leg, they are immediately tended to by a kind priest. Setting Yeet down in a pew, the cleric asks what happened as he begins to cast healing spells to help with Yeet’s arm. Retelling the story of the fight, explaining what they do, Grant can’t help but wonder if the chapel might have something that would be very useful for them.

“Not to ask more of you, but I was wondering if by chance you have a wheelchair?” Yeet immediately goes beet red, embarrassment filling his body. Unfazed by the sound of Yeet’s arm snapping back into place, the elderly cleric looks to Grant.

“Why yes! We do. It will be an extra cost on your part though son.” Of course, everything has a price. Fishing out 20 gold pieces from a leather pouch, Grant hands the cleric the money. The cleric smiles wide as he disappears to fetch the wheel chair.

“Grant, what the fuck dude? I don’t need that.” Yeet explains through gritted teeth.

“Yeet, I really don’t wanna carry you everywhere while we’re in town. It’s more for me than it is for you.” Grant gestures to himself. “You think this stupid body can handle carrying around you? I got weak noodle arms, I can’t do that dude.” Yeet lets out a loud laugh, punching Grant playfully in the arm.

“I guess you’re right, obviously you’re our weakest link.” Yeet jokes, Grant unable to look away from his perfect, infectious smile. Though, his smile fads slightly as the priest comes back, wheelchair in tow. “I still don’t like this shit.”

Yeet slides his ass into the wheelchair, slapping Grant’s hand away as he goes to grab the handles.

“Okay, I get it. If you’re worried about me hurting my baby arms just tell me next time.” Grant hopes to get another laugh from Yeet and he’s very glad when he gets one. Standing in front of the church the two look around the street, seeing which tavern looked the most empty. Grant follows Yeet as he begins to make his way to a sleepy looking inn. Holding the door open for the other, Grant continues following Yeet. Grant isn’t really fond of drinking, he never really liked it. When his dad would let him sample a new brew he was working on it always took 100% concentration to not make a gross face. Still, he would occasionally drink with Yeet and Killa, being more of a babysitter for the two during their drunken stupors. Finding a table, Yeet stays put as Grant goes to get them something to drink. An ale for him and something stronger for Yeet. Maybe whiskey or scotch… he does like a glass of wine every once in a while, or a round of shots for the two of them? No, Grant can’t get drunk, he just wants to get a drink for Yeet and head home so he can shower.

“Whatcha gettin’ kid?” The gruff voice of the half-orc bartender snaps Grant from his thoughts.

“Oh, um- t-two ales please.” He stutters out. The bartender nods, grabbing two mugs. As he fills the mugs with foamy alcohol he looks Grant up and down.

“Ai, you’re an adventurer aren’t ya?” 

“Sorta. What makes you think that sir?” The half-orc slides one of the mugs to Grant, ale sloshing over the lip of the mug.

“Well, ya smell like shit and you’re covered in blood.” Grant looks down at himself, just realizing how awful and disgusting he looks. Flicking off a piece of dried brain, Grant looks back to the bartender who hands him the other mug.

“Ah, right. Yeah, we just got back from killing a cyclops.” When saying “we” he gestures to Yeet who’s fiddling with his dagger.

“Hmm, ten copper.” Grant digs around in one of his pouches, sliding over 15 copper, his dad always told him to tip well. The bartender lights up as he pockets the extra five copper. “Aye, ya didn’t hear it from me but if ya need anymore jobs, that fella over there has a few bounties if you’re looking for some work. Really high paying, something close to a thousand gold a piece.” Grant’s eyes go wide as he turns his head towards the direction that the half-orc is pointing, seeing a man sitting alone at a booth, very Aragorn-esque.

“I’ll keep that in mind, thanks.” Living in Faerun made Grant feel like the main character of Oblivion or Skyrim. It was cool as hell but also very scary at times. He can’t really pause the game or restart when he dies. Hands hooked around the handles of the mugs, Grant makes his way back to Yeet, setting the ale in front of him. Yeet takes a big swig from the mug, Grant watching how some of the alcohol dribbled down his chin, and down his neck, and how can Yeet look so attractive doing anything? Grant takes a sip of his ale, scrunching his nose up at the taste as he looks back at the guy sitting by himself.

“Yeet, check out the guy over there.” Grant whispers quietly, Yeet setting his mug down to glance at the stranger.

“What about him? He’s just sitting there.” 

“Bartender said he had some bounties. About a thousand gold.” Yeet practically chokes on his ale.

“A thousand gold all together or?” The look on Grant’s face answers Yeet’s question. Looking between the stranger and Grant, Yeet pushes himself away from the table and begins to make his way over to the man. Grabbing Yeets drink, Grant follows behind Yeet. Yeet normally does the talking when it comes to taking bounties, so Grant is just prepared to be there in case things go south. The man looks up from his glass of wine at the two boys, them being able to barely see his face with the hood covering his head.

“Heard you got some bounties?” Yeet rests his hands on the table of the booth. The man nods, looking the two up and down, looking particularly at Grant more than Yeet. Gesturing for Grant to sit, the stranger takes off his hood. He looks like a man who's lived a long life despite only seemingly only being in his forties. A salt and pepper mustache rest on his top lip, frown lines on either side of his mouth, balding slightly. Grant sits and slides Yeet’s ale to him.

“Listen kid, I don’t wanna waste your time or mine. I got three bounties but these are not your normal criminals.” The man digs in his bag, pulling out three wanted posters, no actual drawings on them. That’s not what catches the teens eyes, the rewards are what get their attention. 1000 gold, 2000 gold, 3000 gold. That’s 6000 fucking gold pieces. 

“I need some monsters hunted down.”

“Oh hell yeah! That’s like exactly what we do!” Yeet chimes in, the man taking a deep breath, looking very annoyed.

“I need them alive, preferably not that injured.” The two boys share a confused look.

“Why do you need them alive?” Grant asks.

“That’s none of your business. Seeing as you’re the only people thus far who haven’t declined, what do you say?” Before Grant can pull Yeet aside and say that they should talk to Killa first, Yeet sticks out his hand for the man to shake.

“You gotta deal.” With a reluctant hand, the stranger shakes Yeet’s hand. “Oh, I’m Yeet and this is Grant.”

“A pleasure. I don’t give out my name so willingly.” The man hands the papers over to Grant. “You shall be paid when you capture a monster and bring it back to this location” Handing another slip of paper to Grant, Yeet leaning over to look at it, they both get a baffled look on their faces.

“Ravenloft? Isn’t that place aband-“ Before Yeet can finish his question, they look up to see the man is gone. 

“I don’t like this Yeet. This seems shady as fuck.” Grant looks nervously to Yeet who had a huge grin on his face.

“Grant, don’t worry about it. Think about how much money this is! We could fix my skateboard, this will keep mom in hospice for God knows how long and fuck, this could be our break.” 

“I know it sounds fucking amazing but, you’re not gonna be able to do shit until your skateboard gets fixed. I don’t know if me and Killa are gonna be able handle this shit, look!” Grant gestures to the papers. “A werewolf? A ghost? A fucking vampire? That’s, I don’t think we can do this, Yeet.”

“You and Killa can kick ass without me. I mean christ you destroyed that cyclops today. You killed it, sure me and Killa helped but we can’t do what you do.” Yeet takes Grant’s hands in his, staring Grant in the eyes. “We have to try dude, this could change our lives.”

“I… fine.” Yeet had an effect over Grant, it was hard for him to say no. That grin shows up on Yeet’s face again, making Grant swoon as he squeezes Grant’s hands.

“Fuck yeah, you’re not gonna regret this dude.”

“But, you’re gonna have to convince Killa.”

“Oh don’t worry about that. I am not gonna have to convince her.”


	2. Getting Heated with the Hotties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The siblings fight and Grant is uncomfortable with the energy in the studio today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: ableist language??? i feel like i should add some warning
> 
> also i didn’t edit this so if you see things that look wrong, no you don’t 🔫😊

“Absolutely not Yeet. Are your fucking insane?”

Emerging from the bathroom, drying off his hair, a towel wrapped around his waist, Grant can overhear the two twins. Still arguing about the bounties. He really should step in, help Yeet out a little, but putting pants on was the number one priority right now. Heading to his and Yeet’s room, Killa having won the arm wrestling contest of who got their own rooms, Grant hears the yelling get louder.

“Why not Killa? You make risky moves all the fucking time and  _ I  _ never call you out for that shit!”

Things were getting intense, he needs to hurry over and desculate before elbows start to get thrown. Doing one last wipe off of the remaining water droplets, Grant hurriedly gets dressed. By the times he’s out the door, still pulling his shirt on, he hears a large thud. Rushing into the kitchen he finds Killa crouched next to Yeet, a dining room chair knocked over and him on the ground.

“What the hell happened?” Killa goes to answer Grant, before she can get the words out, she’s interrupted.

“Nothing, it’s fine. Don’t fucking worry about.” Sitting up, using his upper body strength, Yeet sets the chair he was sitting in back up.

“Here man, lemme help you-“

“No. It’s fine, I fucking got this.” Killa and Grant watch as Yeet hoists himself back up on the chair, Grant catching the back as it starts to slip away from the other. “I’m good, I can handle myself.”

“...maybe we should collect those bounties.” Killa speaks softly as she sits in the chair next to Yeet, setting her hand on his.

“Yeah, we should K. Not just cause things are fucky with me. Think about mom, how much that money could help with paying for-“

“I know!” Killa cuts in before Yeet can finish speaking. Letting out a tired sigh, she pulls her hand away from Yeet’s, resting her head in her hands. “I know… I can’t go though.”

“Why can't you go?” Grant stops standing awkwardly as he walks towards the kettle that rests on the stove. Tea felt like something everyone needed right now.

“I have to stay with Yeet.” Stocking the stove with wood, Grant digs for the matches they keep nearby. Striking the match against the ironside of the stove, Grant carefully lights some of the tinder in the stove, closing the gated door as the fire grows.

“Killa I can take care of myself. Throw me in that wheelchair and I’m good as gold.” Yeet responds.

“What if we have to be away for weeks? How will you get food? Bathe yourself? Hmm? You can’t just roll into town and buy yourself some bread.” 

“Why not? I can handle myself, Killa.” Things were getting heated again. Grant plops the now full kettle onto the hot stove. Beginning to dig around in the cupboards for tea, sugar, and cups, Grant wishes he could just instantly have this ready.

“Yeet, I’m not leaving you alone okay? Grant can handle these on his own.” Grant lets out a confused hum, flashing Killa a confused look.

“Okay, maybe not the vampire, but he can do the other two, and then we’ll have the money to fix your skateboard and we can all get the vampire.”

“I’m not a little kid Killa. I know how to do shit.”

“I’m not saying you can’t do things by yourself, Yeet. It’s just- you’re not- I’m worried something bad might happen if I leave. Like, something you can’t handle… while you’re like this.”

An uncomfortable silence falls over the trio. The only noise that is heard is the steady crackle of the stove. A look of hurt spread across Yeet’s face as he processes what Killa was telling him.

“ _ While I’m like this?  _ What do you mean by  _ like this? _ ”

“Yeet, you know I don’t mean it like th-“

“No.” Yeet lets out a sigh, shaking his head in disbelief. “I get it. Yeah, fine fuck it, fucking babysit me. Ya know, because I’m apparently  _ so  _ useless, go get the wheelchair for me.” Yeet has completely pulled away from Killa, jerking back when she tries to put a hand on his shoulder.

Slowly getting up, Killa rolls over the wheelchair to Yeet. He immediately moves himself into it, moving down the tiny hallway, Yeet wheels himself in his room. The sound of the door slamming almost perfectly in time with the sound of the kettle screaming. Grant removes the kettle, setting it down on a hot plate. Standing like a statue, Killa can’t look away from the hallway. She and Yeet have fought before, it’s hard not to fight with a sibling even if you’re so close, but she’s never messed up like this before. The clicking of a mug being set on the table shakes Killa out of her thoughts. Sitting back down at the table, a steamy cup of tea in front of her, she feels Grant’s hand on her back. 

“I fucked up didn’t I?” She speaks quietly as she reaches out for the mug. Grant knew how the others liked their tea by now, Killa’s mix being two sugar cubes and a dash of milk. 

“Yeah, I’d say so.” Not the most comforting thing but Grant wasn’t going to lie. It was pretty fucked up what she had said.

“Am I wrong for worrying though? Faerun isn’t supper wheelchair inclusive. And it’s not like there’s a smooth path he can take to get to town and it take him so long to get help if he needed and- and-  _ fuck. _ ” Killa puts down her tea to bury her face in her hands. 

Grant is currently making a mug for Yeet, he probably would want it but it was the thought that counts. Yeet drank his tea black which was just gross, Grant’s tea was mainly milk and sugar, looking more like chocolate milk than tea.

“I think being worried is fine, but like… I don’t know, what you said wasn’t- you shouldn’t have said it like that.” Grant doesn’t want to sound accusatory, Killa already knew she did something bad but he didn’t want to sugarcoat anything. 

“You should talk to him again later and like, explain yourself. Explain your feelings and listen to what he has to say, communicate and all that healthy shit.”

“You’re right. Thanks Grant.” Curling her finger around the mug again, Killa raises the mug to her face and takes a sip. Some of the tension she was carrying leaves as the warmth of the tea fills her. “You… you can handle the bounties by yourself right?”

“Um,” Grant hesitates, “maybe? I’m only nervous about the ‘not killing them part. It would be easier that way but I’m pretty sure I can do it myself.”

“I- that wasn’t a comforting answer, Grant.” Killa adds like he didn’t already know that.

“I’m not trying to be comforting, K. You asked me a question and I answered truthfully.” Grant kept his voice calm, not wanting to start anything. Having finished making both his and Yeet’s teas, Grant reaches up and grabs a cookie jar from on top of the ice box. Grant never thought he’d miss having a refrigerator but here he is, having to use a fricking  _ ice box. _

“Do you want me to come? We could maybe, I don’t know, hire someone to look after him?” Setting a cookie down in front of Killa, Grant shakes his head.

“That’s even worse Killa. I’m gonna talk to him or at least get him to calm down a little.” Grant speaks, carefully holding the two mugs in his hand and a couple cookies in the others.

  
  


Grant walks off to his room, gently knocking on the door with his head, seeing as his hands were full. However, he soon realizes he has to open the door. Balancing the cookies on top of the mugs, Grant opens the door and slowly steps into the bedroom. The room itself is fairly small, there being enough room for two twin beds, a dresser, and one night stand. Grant couldn’t complain, it’s better than sleeping outside. Plus being able to share space with just Yeet… that’s cool. It was also a lot sometimes, Yeet being unaware and oblivious to Grant. So many times of Grant quietly reading just for Yeet to burst in thought the door, throw off his shirt and flop onto his bed and start talking to Grant like nothing was up. Like he wasn’t incredibly attractive and  _ shirtless. _ Right now wasn’t an exception. Yeet is currently shirtless sprawled out on his bed, fuming. Shutting the door behind him, doing everything to not stare at the other, Grant sets the tea and cookies on the nightstand between their beds.

“I made tea.” Grant states as plainly as he can, trying to calm the butterflies in his stomach.

“I see that.” Yeet response with a similar tone. He looks over at the mug and cookies but doesn’t take them. “What do you want man?”

“I- just wanted to see how you’re doing I guess.” Grant looks up from his hands to Yeet, noticing how the other relaxes a little at his words.

“How do you think I’m doing Grant? My sister thinks I’m- fuck, I’m upset.” Yeet huffs, sifting up slightly looking to Grant. “I mean, Killa’s my sister, she knows better than to say shit like that!”

“I’m not gonna defend how she put her thoughts, obviously she shouldn’t have said it like that. Still, I’m not sure if all of us going is a good idea.” Grant says quietly, Yeet responding by rolling his eyes. “It’s not because I think you can’t. These bounties are different from our other ones. I think us showing up as a group would be a bad idea.”

“What do you mean by that? No offense Grant, but you can’t fight a werewolf or ghost and you especially can’t fight a vampire by yourself.” 

“That’s why I’m not going to fight them. We just need to capture the monsters so I can set traps and shit. Stealth mission and all that shit.” Grant takes his mug and takes a sip from it, he’s still not the biggest fan of tea, even with all the milk and sugar he puts in his. 

“Huh, you really think you can pull that off, Wilson?” Caving in, Yeet reaches over and grabs his mug. After taking a long gulp of tea, Yeet starts to look a little less upset.

“You know, just make basic traps. Set up bear traps, dig pits and cover them with leaves, maybe see if I can get my hands on sleeping darts.” Grant says with a false confidence, unsure how he’s gonna do any of this.

“That might work for the werewolf but the ghost? Vampire? Those are much more clever.” Yeet points out, now munching on a cookie. 

“I’ll have to do more research about the ghost and like Killa said, we can all go for the vampire. Once we mist it, we can just bring it’s coffin to Ravenloft.” Grant retorts.

“I mean, I guess that could work. What if you get hurt though? Someone’s gotta have your back dude.” Yeet’s words are sincere and kind, whatever disdain he still had in his voice gone.

“Oh, I won’t get hurt.” Grant lies? Maybe lies, he can’t predict the future.

“Promise?” Yeet looks over to Grant, his eyes deep and as wondrous as the night sky itself. Grant feels his heart jump, he could get lost in Yeet’s eyes for hours. Instead of continuing to stare, Grant shakes his feelings away and offers Yeet some comfort.

“Promise.”

  
  
  


—————————————————————

  
  


Traveling on his own was strange. He’s still not as familiar with this world as Killa and Yeet are. Grant enjoyed the quiet silence of riding through the forest, the only noise he can hear are the calls of birds and rhythmic clop of his horse’s hooves. Well, technically it’s Yeet’s horse. Killa’s horse wouldn’t let anyone but Killa touch her, stubborn bitch that animal. Being by himself made Grant a little giddy. Like he’s the main character of rpg. Having to dress in fantasy clothes made him feel cool as hell, especially the cloak. He often found himself gesturing with it dramatically or taking sharp turns to feel the fabric incircle him. It was easy to appreciate the little things about Faerun, there wasn’t a lot of cool shit about this world. Holding onto a map while riding, Grant feels grateful that he’s only a mile out from the town where the werewolf is. Fandellen is a strange name and he could swear that he’s heard that name before. Maybe from some podcast. 

Reaching the town it does not look great. It’s practically empty. This what looks like the average farming town is desolate and vacant. Businesses are closing or closed, homes empty, folks squatting in them. Going to the only functional looking business, a rugged tavern, Grant ties his horse to the post out front and walks in. The place only has a few people inside, some average looking farming folk. In true fantasy quest fashion, Grant decides the bartender is probably the best person to talk to. Hopping up onto one of the bar stools, he orders a drink to be polite and starts talking to the bartender.

What he’s able to gage from this interaction is that this town is being terrorized by this werewolf. That it’s killing livestock, will come into town and start fires and steal things that made no sense for a werewolf to steal. It didn’t just come on full moons either so whoever is the werewolf is actively choosing to destroy the town. Some people tried to hunt it down but they never came back, which that information is  _ so _ comforting to Grant. There’s another bounty on it which Grant could also collect, so bonus. After having the man mark his map of the general area of where it usually stays, Grant politely excuses himself.

Setting up traps wasn’t that hard. He knew it wouldn’t be stupid. He’d have to be smart in tricking it. Going with the classic snare trap and hidden holes, he feels fairly confident he can handle this. Getting a few more supplies from town, managing to snag a dark vision potion, Grant waits until nightfall. Having left his horse in town, not wanting to put it in harm's way, Grant lies in wait, crossbow in hand.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha you thought you’d get monster or the other boys? nah, just a five footer.


	3. Double Trouble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grant fights a werewolf :))

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aye, there’s a lot of fighting and violence in this chapter. there’s also a lot of description of saliva in this chapter so if that’s not your vibe there will be a tame summary of what happens in the notes of the next chapter if you need to skip this one

Nightfall came faster than Grant had expected. The moon in the sky resembles a crescent roll so Grant shouldn’t be afraid of the werewolf being it’s most powerful. There’s still a feeling of unease that settles on his skin like a layer of thick snow. No one is there to help the fear disperse and fall off his shoulders. No kind hand on his shoulder, an elbow in the side, a voice telling him to stop being a baby. No Yeet or Killa. It was fine, he could handle the steadily creeping darkness. The sound of the forest at night, eerily too quiet and too loud at the same time. Tree leaves swishing, rubbing against each other as a cool night breeze blows between the branches. Bugs akin to cicadas buzzing and chirping in the distance. Or are they close? It’s hard to distinguish anything while it’s in black and white. Fuck does dark vision suck. Whatever, he can get through this. All he needs to do is wait for the werewolf to show up.

It shows up. Grant isn’t ready.

It sees him before he sees it. Lurking in the darkness of the forest, following the scent of fresh meat. From what the locals told him, the creature tends to avoid others at all costs. Only devouring livestock or ransacking the butcher’s shop. That didn’t mean it wouldn’t attack if threatened. Thankfully for Grant, he isn’t much of a threat. Alerted to a presence by the sound of a twig snapping, Grant whips his head in the direction of the noise. It seems to have come from about 20 feet ahead of him, near one of the bear traps he set. Watching intently, desperately trying to steady his trembling hands on his crossbow, Grant is… he’s confused at what he sees. Instead of a foot stepping out of the darkness, setting off the trap, he sees… a branch? A tree branch pokes out from the forest and presses down on the pressure plate of the trap, snapping it in half. Fuck. This thing was smarter than he thought. After about a minute of no movement, the monster makes its entrance. Silhouetted by dim moonlight, what appears to be a large wolf pokes its head out of the darkness. Yet, as it moves, the wolf head begins to rise up, higher and higher until it’s at least ten feet off the ground. Most of its body is hidden beneath a large cloak, its hands, hind legs and head being the most visible. It crouches down and begins to devour the meat within the trap. Curiously, as one hand moves to its head, the other moves to where it’s stomach would be. Shakily, Grant loads a silver tipped bolt into his crossbow. This first shot must be perfect, somewhere that’ll give an advantage and not damage the monster too much. Aiming for its hind leg, still unaware that the werewolf knows he’s there, Grant takes the shot.

It misses, the werewolf having moved it’s leg out of the way at the last minute. Turning its head towards him, Grant’s heart drops as he sees glowing emerald eyes staring into his soul.

Reloading faster than he has ever in his life, Grant quickly scrambles to his feet, taking aim as the monster moves onto all fours, charging towards him. The werewolf definitely has the upper hand, it’s sight was better, it’s hearing better, smell better, and it’s aiming to kill. Waiting for an opportunity to hit it in the side, Grant pulls the trigger and begins sprinting in the opposite direction, pulling out his axe as he does. The sound of a whine and snarl lets him know he hit. Once his axe is fully out, he turns around and waits for it. Foaming at the mouth, fury unlike anything Grant has ever seen, the werewolf attempts to pounce on him. Successful dodging the attack, Grant spins on his heels and slashes at the beast, it barely leaning out of the way. For a brief moment the two stare at each other, walking in a circle, both taking a moment to catch their breaths. Ultimately, the bloodlust in the monster takes over, drool and foam flies from its mouth as it lunges head first at him. Grant’s first instinct is to block, holding up the handle of his axe and shoving it in the werewolf’s mouth horizontally. Pushing against the other, Grant proves to be weaker as the monster overpowers him, pinning him to the ground. It’s breath heats up Grant’s face as it tries to break the handle in its mouth. Gnawing and grinding at the wood, splintery, hot saliva falls in stringy beads onto Grant’s face. Blindly he kicks at the beast’s stomach and chest, trying to get it off him. Before he’s able to, claws drag down his chest, causing him to cry out in pain, slobber getting in his mouth. Not having the time or energy to notice that the monster’s hands didn’t move from his sides, Grant nails a solid kick in its… face? 

Everything after that happens so suddenly. A high pitched yelp is heard upon contact. Surprisingly, he doesn’t feel the softness of a stomach, the thing he hit was hard and something crunched. Stomachs don’t crunch. As quickly after he makes contact, it moves away as the weight of the werewolf falls on his stomach, knocking the wind out of him. It suddenly becomes much easier to push the werewolf off him now, giving a hardy shove sends it tumbling off him. Having no time to focus on the fire burning on his chest, Grant gets to his feet, wiping the slime off his face as he backs up from the werewolf. Eyes free of dog slobber, the sight before him is immensely peculiar. The werewolf is slumped in a misshapen pile of torn fabric. It looks nothing like the huge monstrosity it once was, but there’s something disturbingly uncanny about how it looks. Taking in the sight he sees it’s head turn back to look at him. Removing its cloak, it charges at Grant, furiously barking and snarling. Caught off guard by how or why it shrunk in size, him now being taller than it, the werewolf manages to latch onto his arm. Crying out in pain, Grant grits his teeth as he fumbles to pull out a dagger to stab it in the side. Amazingly, it doesn’t let go, Grant having to drop his dagger and physically pry it off him. It falls to the ground and Grant kicks it in the ribs. Fuck. This is so fucking weird. As it yelps and weakly tries to bite Grant’s leg, out of the corner of his eye Grant sees the cloak move… what? Why the fuck is it moving? Fuck it. While the werewolf is incapacitated, Grant drops his axe, producing silver chain from his bag. It didn’t look dead, it’s certainly still fighting against him, but Grant manages to press his knee into its back to restrain it. After successfully getting the beast tied up and immobile, foolishly, Grant let’s his guard down. In this brief moment of relief, Grant feels claws dig into his back and teeth wrapped around the nape of his neck. Rolling over to crush whatever the fuck is attacking him now, he feels it let go for a second. Giving him time to throw his hands back to blindly grab for its mouth, trying to hold it shut.

When he grabs it's mouth it feels like a dog’s snout. What. The. Actual. Fuck. Trying to wriggle free of his grasp, Grant holds on tightly, confusion turning into anger. Using the strength he has left, Grant pries this monster free from his back, slamming it to the ground. It’s a second fucking werewolf. Getting the upper hand, Grant gets on top of the one who’s snout he’s holding, opting to pin its head to ground, hands around its throat. Panting and sweating, a struggling werewolf underneath him and a second werewolf bleeding out next to him, Grant wants to collapse. The pain and blood loss finally hits as his adrenaline is replaced with confusion. Feeling the monster underneath him start to go limp, wincing at its nails digging into his arms, it squeaks out a sentence between whimpers.

“ _ Brother, avenge me- _ “

That voice… it’s… it’s so familiar yet, so distant. Loosening his grip on the werewolf’s throat, letting the creature scramble away and gasp for breath, Grant just stares at it.

“Sp- Sparrow?” 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aye!!!! the lord of chaos is here?? but they’re werewolves??? what??? crazy right?


	4. Exposition!: The Chapter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grant talks to some old friends and revives some bad news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Grant - 17 years old, level 10 barbarian, human  
> Yeet - 17 years old, level 10 fighter, cyborg  
> Killa - 17 years old, level 10 rogue, banshee  
> Terry Jr - ??? years old, level ??? ???, ???  
> Nick - ??? years old, level ??? ???, ???  
> Lark - 14 years old, level 2 fighter level 8 warlock, lycanthrope  
> Sparrow - 14 years old, level 2 druid level 8 warlock, lycanthrope
> 
> ALSO!!! explanation of last chapter for folks who may have skipped due to the violence. Grant fought the werewolf only to find out it was two werewolf in a cloak. After chaining up one, the other speaks and reveals its voice, making Grant realize these werewolves be the twins!

“ _ How do you know that name? _ ” The beast snarls, though it’s confused anger disappears when it’s eye meets the other werewolf’s. Grant makes no attempt to stop it from scrambling over to the other small beast. As it winces at accidentally touching the silver chains, Grant is unable to make sense of what’s happening for several reasons. It’s voice was definitely Sparrow’s, albeit a little deeper sounding. Watching the beast dodt over the other, it’s form grows smaller. Less muscular, the fur seemingly getting sucked back into it’s follicles. This transformation hurts Grant’s head to watch, like he shouldn’t be seeing this. Pressing his eyes shut as a terrible migraine wraps his head, he can feel himself becoming weaker and weaker from his injuries.

“H-how do you- guys? Is this real?” When he opens his eyes he sees a person he thought he’d never see again. A messy mop of dark brown curly hair cascades down a young teens body as they lean over and attempt to tend to the werewolf’s wounds. They look a little younger than Grant but are still older than when Grant saw them last. Looking over to Grant, a large scar travels across their face, their big, brown eyes plead to him.

“I don’t know what you want but either just kill me and spare him.” They speak, their voice hoarse and desperate. A dumbfounded grin can’t help but spread over Grant’s face. 

“Sparrow… don’t you recognize me?” His body aching, Grant attempts to get closer, the other backing away, still not fully wanting to trust him.  “It’s me, Grant.”

When he says his name the two lycanthropes share a similar look. The one in human form leans in a little closer and sniffs Grant. Pulling back they shake their head “no”.

“That can’t be, friend Grant would never attack us.” Sparrow huffs, ignoring their wounds in favor of applying pressure to Lark’s. Slowly and painfully, Lark transforms back into his human form, bruises and cuts cover his body. Many old scars are sprinkled along his freckles and marks, equally long hair clings to his skin.

“ _ F-friend Grant wouldn’t survive long either. _ ” He coughs with a smirk, spitting out blood.

“Fuck it really is you two.” Grant laughs tiredly, his ribs hurting as he does. Wanting to prove that he’s actually himself, Grant digs through his backpack quickly. Finding only two healing potions, he hesitates handing them over. He desperately needs one himself but he started this fight. It wouldn't be fair of him to use one. Giving the potions to Sparrow, he makes quick work of removing the chains from Lark.

“There.” He breathes heavily, wanting to just lay down in the grass and sleep forever. “Does that prove I’m actually Grant?”

Snatching the potions from Grant, Sparrow’s brow furrows as they look Grant up and down. Not wanting to think about this stranger's motives while their brother is hurt, they pull the cork from the potion off with their teeth. Gently they prop up Lark’s head on their lap, tilting the potion into their brother’s mouth, the red liquid dribbling down the side of his mouth, their posture relaxes as Lark’s wounds begin to close. Chugging down their own potion, they drag their arm across their mouth.  “No, that gesture proves nothing.” 

“Really, it just makes your motives even less unclear.” Lark pipes up, already feeling much better from the potion. Sitting up, Lark quickly looks over Sparrow, making sure they’re okay before returning his attention back to Grant. “How do we know you’re not just tricking us? I would ask you to say something only friend Grant would know but who’s to say you haven’t stolen his memories?”

His mind already foggy from blood loss and his lack of experience of dealing with the twins, Grant just sits there. Taking a moment to breathe and think about what he could possibly do. All of this is so insane. How did they twins become werewolves? What are the chances of  _ him  _ being the one to collect their bounty? Can he even collect their bounty now? Running his hand through his hair, pulling it out of its bun and shaking it out, Grant sighs.

“You’re Lark, you’re Sparrow. Your parents are Henry Oak and Mercedes Oak-Garcia. You have a dog and goat and a bird back home. We’ve been here for four years after arriving here and getting kidnapped. Um…” Grant tries to think of more information he can tell them before Sparrow.

“Stop! As my brother already said, there’s nothing you can tell us to make us believe you.” They pull their hair back and begin braiding it, showing no fear of Grant right now. As they pull their hair back they reveal a tattered, familiar green soccer jersey.

“W-wait!” Grant lights up as much as he can when he sees the jersey. Slowly and methodically, getting more and more fatigued from his wounds, Grant takes off his wrist armor. Pulling off a weathered, woven green bracelet, Grant laboriously tries to unweave it. His fingers are so cold and tingly, it’s hard to do. Eventually he tosses the bracelet to the twins.  “Same jersey, my name is- it’s on it.”

Carefully picking up the bracelet, Lark sniffs it. Cocking his eyebrow, he hands it to Sparrow, who makes quick work of untangling it. Holding a small strip of old, worn fabric between the two of them, the twins share a similar look. Faded letters read “WILSON” on the green fabric. Looking up from the fabric and back to Grant, the twins share a similar smile.

“Friend Grant?” They say in unison, a familiar lilt in their voices.

Grant nods slowly, a soft smile on his face. As his vision grows blurrier and blurrier, the two twins becoming multiple twins, he reaches out for the two. He’s so cold and tired, they look so warm. Head lulling to the side, Grant can’t keep himself sitting up anymore. As he falls to the grass, the last thing Grant can see is the two twins reaching back for him.

  
  


—————————————————————

The sound of birds chirping and siblings bickering wakes Grant up. Stirring slightly, still fuzzy from his “sleep”, Grant is immediately woken up completely as his hand bangs against a log. Cursing in pain, Grant feels the rest of his body crash to the first floor. Two faces appear in his vision, covering the underside of trees as he lays on the forest floor.

“Friend Grant! You're finally awake!” Sparrow chirps. Sitting up, feeling incredibly sore, Grant tries to process what just happened. His wounds feel closed so that’s good but he’s also in the middle of an unfamiliar forest. More importantly, he found the twins. Standing up a little too quickly, his vision going black, Grant pulls the two into a hug before they can scramble away, though they quickly return the hug back, squeezing him a little too hard.

“You guys are alive!” Grant laughs, holding on tightly to the two, getting so into the hug he lifts them slightly off the ground. “I thought you guys had died or- or- I don’t know! I thought I’d never see you again!”

“Foolish to think we could ever die friend Grant.” Points out Lark.

“Hmm, yes. We simply can’t die friend Grant.” Adds Sparrow.

Setting the two back on the ground, Grant reluctantly pulls away from the hug. “Right, my bad.” He can’t stop smiling, unable to believe how he has these two back in his life.  “What happened after we got separated?”

The twins share a similar look of annoyance at Grant’s question. “It’s a boring and tedious story to tell.” Sparrow mutters

“And long, let us tell you while we take you back to our home.” Lark suggests, already waking before Grant can give his opinion. “It’ll be much faster to get there now that we don’t have to drag you!”

“Mmh, that’s why my back hurts.” Grant mumbles, following the two barefoot Oaks.

“I also believe that I clawed the shit out of it this morning!” Sparrow boasts, instinctively grabbing a large walking stick they don’t need.

Walking through the forest, afternoon sunlight spilling through the trees, the two twins recount what happened to them after they were kidnapped.

“Pretty quickly we were able to escape our binds and captors. Eventually we ended up in Neverwinter and the people recognized our immense power immediately and we became the lord of chaos.” Lark explains, twigs and leaves crunching under his feet.

“The cult that runs the city believed us to be a key component in summoning an eldritch god to destroy the world and rebuild anew. Though, after almost all of the people in the city perished in search for the Doodler, we grew quite bored of the cult’s leader. Especially after he suggested that perhaps one of us needed to spill blood to summon the Doodler.” Sparrow adds, whacking their stick against any trees they pass by.

“So we had his own men kill him!” Lark chimes.

“Wait wait wait-“ Grant is just baffled and a little terrified of the implications of this story. “ _ You two are the cause of the Neverwinter massacre? _ ”

The Neverwinter massacre was a horrible tragedy that happened for little to no reason to outsiders. After all the cult killings, the remaining towns folks began murdering one another, leaving no survivors of the once beacon that was once the huge city. Grant only heard stories of it from Yeet and Killa but apparently it’s not all that bad. Over time the ghost town had become a  _ literal _ ghost town. One can still do business and trade there, it’s just a little more spooky.

“Not exactly. We left before that happened.” Sparrow says, a  _ twinge  _ of sadness in their voice. “Sounds like it would’ve been a good fight though.”

“Yes, unfortunate for us, my sibling and I grew bored of no sighting of the Doodler. We left to learn and perform our own rituals to summon the Doodler, which we did may I add.” Lark boasts proudly. “The Doodler gifted us with many cool powers for us being in its service.” As if to demonstrate, Lark points a finger gun at a tree. Green light accumulates at his finger tip before it flies from his hand like a bullet. Watching the magic go soaring towards the tree, Grant shields his face as the tree splinters and cracks upon impact.

“Woah… so you two are warlocks?” Grant asks, picking wood fragments from his hair. “Nice… how did you become werewolves then?”

“Ah that! Luck wasn’t completely on our side one night and we were attacked by a lycanthrope.” Lark answers.

“We killed it but I was infected by its bite!” Sparrow says happily. “I couldn’t let my brother not be a cool werewolf without me so I infected him as well.” 

“Damn, that really sucks guys- wait is guys cool with you Sparrow?” Grant hasn’t asked yet but he had managed to pick up on Sparrow using they/them pronouns now.

“It is cool with me! Thank you for asking friend Grant!” Sparrow assures. “Though it doesn’t suck! We get to be powerful warlocks and strong beasts!”

Grant laughs. “Yeah I guess, that’s pretty cool.” 

“What about you friend Grant?” Hums Lark curiously. “What have you’ve been up to all these years? Have you’ve found any of the other doodlers?”

As he continues to follow the twins, Grant explains what happened to him. Tells them about fourknights, about the Hotties, about being a monster hunter, filled with so much joy that he’s able to talk to them again. Grant had never expected he’d see any of his friends again. As much as he hoped and prayed that they’d find each other again, a part of him believed it to be impossible. This world is so big and dangerous, it was easier to assume that they had died. It hurt less to think that instead of imagining what horrible lives they could be living. At least in death he could believe them to be in heaven or something close to that. Not suffering at the hands of evil in this fucked up world. But knowing that the twins are alive, relatively safe and most importantly, knowing that they still have each other. That makes him more happy than words could describe.

“Oh! Friend Grant! We’re here!” Sparrow interrupts the story Grant’s telling as they rush forward. 

As the twins run excitedly to show Grant where they’re staying, Grant smiles. Following behind them, Grant watches as they disappear into a bush. Pushing aside prickly branches, Grant enters a familiar clearing. The smile on his face quickly leaves as he sees it. Sunlight trickles down from the canopy above, covering the moss covered structure in warmth. Slowly stepping closer, the twins oblivious to his change in demeanor, Grant swallows. It’s paint is chipped off in several places, from weathering or the twins clawing it up. Rust covers it and the windows are cracked but the vehicle is unmistakable to Grant. The van he watched his dad spend hours working on, that he let him help him with. Promised him that this van would one day be his, even let him drive it a couple times for practice. Brushing away leaves from the hood, Grant doesn’t have words to say.

“Cool isn’t?” Lark asks, hopping up and sitting on the hood. “I’m surprised we were able to find it still here. I assumed our fathers would have taken it with them.”

“Y-yeah… when- when you found this was there like, anything weird about it?” Grant looks up to Lark, the younger teen finally realizing that something has changed about him.

“Hmm… no. Not really.” 

“There was dried blood inside it brother!” Sparrow calls from the back of the odyssey.

Grant feels his heart sink. “W-where?” 

“Mainly the back. A little near the driver seat.” Sparrow says casually.

Grant immediately makes his way to the driver side door. The door opens with a noisy creak as he slips into the seat. Seeing the old, faded blood on the carpet turns his stomach. There shouldn’t be blood in here, his dad would be so upset about this stain. There are two things Grant is looking for that he knows his dad wouldn’t leave in the odyssey. Reaching between his legs, Grant digs around under the seat and cringes when he feels the box. Pulling out the box of charleston chews, he sets them on the seat next to him. Those being here isn’t that big of a deal, Darryl would leave them in an emergency situation. There is one thing Grant knows with one hundred percent certainty his dad would  _ never _ leave behind. Seeing it absent from its home on the rear view mirror makes Grant’s nerves immediately drift away. Thank God, there’s still a chance he’s out there.

“Friend Grant?” A soft voice pulls him away from his search as he turns his head to Sparrow. They’re holding something in their hands. “I believe you may be looking for this.”

Grant holds out his hands, knowing what this is when it touches his skin. The cross is cold in his hands, all the beads wrapping around it in a small pile. Running the beads between his fingers, Grant nods a quiet “thank you” to Sparrow. Cupping the rosary, he brings it close to his face, repeating hail marys to himself as he presses his eye shut tightly. Convincing himself that his friends were dead was easy to do but his dad? His dad couldn’t have been dead. In his brain his dad couldn’t die, he’s so strong and skilled and smart, it just didn’t make sense how he could die. Even here, in a strange world he didn’t understand. Grant had managed to survive so how could his dad not? It didn’t make sense, this didn’t make any sense. Darryl Wilson being dead didn’t make sense. Maybe he can lie to himself, say his dad is still alive. That he was in such a hurry to come get him back that he forgot to grab his rosary. Grant knows better, knows that his dad wouldn’t willingly go anywhere without his rosary. Letting out a shaky breath he didn’t know he was holding in, Grant can’t force the tears to stay back any longer. With trembling hands, Grant raises the rosary up and over his head, kissing the cross before tucking it into his shirt.

As he leans his head against the steering wheel, Grant feels two hands awkwardly rubbing his back.

“There, there friend Grant. It’s gonna be o-a-k.” Lark says softly, trying to make his voice sound comforting.

“Yes, let it out. Father always told us that crying is a healthy expression of feelings.” Adds Sparrow.

Grant laughs softly, sniffling as he sits up. “ _ Th-thanks guys… I- you two are great friends. _ ” Wiping his face of tears, Grant slowly exits the van.

“Do you require more comfort or are you satiated?” Sparrow asks, trying to sound more emotional. Grant has always known the twins have a bad time with expressing emotion. Knows that they’re being genuinely sympathetic, it just doesn’t show the same as other peoples sympathy.

“ _ Another hug would be nice. _ ” As soon as the word “hug” is out of his mouth the twins pounce on him. Tackling Grant to the ground, the twins give him big bear hugs. Wrapping their entire bodies around him. Recovering from having the wind knocked out him, Grant returns the hug. For a bit the three just hug, laying in the grass, content to not say anything or talk about why Grant was crying. The twins don’t need to ask, they understand.

“Brother? What’s happening to your hands?” The comfortable silence is broken when Sparrow speaks. Grant opens his eyes to look at Lark’s hands. They’re almost transparent. 

The twins quickly get up from Grant, looking over each other with confusion. Purple smoke surrounds both of them as they flick in and out of existence. Grant jumps to his feet and tries to grab them, equally as confused.

“Guys? It’s this weird warlock shit?” Grant is frantic as he watches helpless as the purple smoke grows more and more opaque.

“N-no! It’s- I don’t- what’s happening to us?” Lark tries to reach out and grab Sparrow, his hands going straight through them.

“Brother I don’t know what this is, I can’t cast any spells!” Uncharacteristic panic take over the two twins as they are eventually consumed by the smoke.

Standing in stunned silence, Grant falls to his knees. “What the fuck? WHAT THE FUCK?” He yells for no one to hear.

Life is unfair for Grant Wilson. Taking his friends away from him after they were just reunited. After he found out his dad is dead. Though life isn’t that cruel. As the smoke disappears, a confused look crosses Grant’s blotchy, wet face. A bag sits where his friends once stood, a small note attached to it. The bag is surprisingly heavy for its size. Grabbing the note, Grant feels sick.

“Thank you for capturing this bounty in such short notice. A pleasure working with you.

-B”

He doesn’t have to wait to be paid for a job well done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> edit: i forgot the twins went to neverwinter so fixed that hopefully?? if i didn’t catch a waterdeep in there pretend it says neverwinter  
> i giveth twin content and taketh away twin content


End file.
